A Wish Upon a Star

by Jeannie Levig

  Leslie smiled. “You need rest.”

  Erica sat up and scanned the room. “Where’s Siena?”

  “In bed asleep, like you should be.” Leslie straightened. She’d like to have the conversation she was considering earlier—get it over with—but there wasn’t much point in trying it tonight. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you there, too.”

  When she came back down, she dropped onto the couch and stuffed the pillow behind her head. Frustrated, she stared up at the ceiling, ending her day exactly as she’d begun it. To punctuate this realization, Gus jumped onto the sofa and snuggled down beside her.

  She couldn’t do this, and no amount of conversation with Erica would change that. In truth, Erica was the last person she should talk to about everything she was feeling. She turned over and punched the pillow to fluff it up. A faint puff of vanilla drifted up from it. Erica’s shampoo.

  Great! That’s just what I need. She smooshed the pillow into a wad and hurled it across the room. This will be over soon. Erica’s getting her strength back. It has to be over soon.

  Chapter Nine

  Erica waited for her garage door to open, then pulled inside. She’d noticed Leslie’s car in its driveway—she always noticed if it was there—which meant by the time they got inside, Gus would be waiting for Siena on the patio.

  As soon as they came to a stop, Siena wrestled out of her seat belt and yanked on the door handle. She’d noticed Leslie’s car, as she always did, as well.

  “Change out of your school clothes before you and Gus get playing,” Erica called as Siena raced into the house, then she gathered her purse and briefcase and followed.

  It was the third day of school for her with her new courses at the city college and for Siena in her second grade class. Both of them were adjusting, Erica to being back to a full-time work schedule, since her summer session was lighter, and Siena to a new teacher, classroom, and group of kids to navigate. She knew it wouldn’t take long, though, for them to establish a routine and settle in.

  As Erica passed Siena’s bedroom doorway, Gus barked at her from the foot of the bed, his stump wagging frantically.

  Erica laughed. “Yes, I see you.” She crossed to him and leaned down to pet him. She even let him bury his nose in her hair and lick her ear wildly. She wasn’t fond of the greeting—she thought it more something for him and Siena, or even him and Leslie to share—but it made him so happy, she allowed it occasionally. “All right, I’m glad to see you, too,” she said after a moment. She pressed her hands around his trembling body and calmed him. “That’s enough.” She kissed the top of his head. At least they still got to see him.

  Leslie, on the other hand, had been MIA for the past week and a half. She’d only waved a few times from her car when they’d seen her leaving and the several attempts Siena had made to see her were met with a nice but definite, “I’m sorry, honey, but I have a lot of work to do.” Erica supposed that could be true, but even her invitations to dinner, something she thought might be welcomed by someone too swamped to make something to eat, had been politely rebuffed. And it’d all been since the Sunday morning Erica had gotten her strength back following her bout of food poisoning. Erica had hoped she could find a way to talk with Leslie about it, but so far, there hadn’t been an opening.

  Erica turned in the opposite direction from the thundering of Siena’s and Gus’s footsteps on the stairs and headed to her room to change clothes. As she pulled a V-neck shell over her head, her phone rang.

  “Hey, girlfriend,” Becky said in her customary upbeat tone. “Just called to see how your first week’s going.”

  “Pretty good, actually. I have a few hotshot students in my classes this semester, which always makes things more interesting, and Siena hasn’t had too many complaints about her new class, which is usually a sign that everything’s going okay. She’s still working with Mrs. Dixon for reading comprehension and, of course, social skills with Jeff. I think that consistency with last year helps a lot.” Erica lay across her bed and drew up her knee. “How about you?”

  “Brandon made it all the way to his second day of kindergarten before losing his morning recess for the rest of the week, Rosi is still on her paper shredding kick and shredded her school lunch card, and Jack wants to buy a ski boat, for some reason I can’t comprehend. He can’t even swim.”

  Erica laughed at Becky’s ability to roll with the complexities of her life. Erica had enough difficulty dealing with only herself and Siena. She didn’t think she could handle a partner and two additional children. Becky hadn’t mentioned her older son’s antics, but he was always up to something.

  “Have you heard from cabana goddess yet?” Becky asked, abruptly changing the subject. She’d referred to Leslie as cabana goddess ever since Erica had told her about the exchange they’d had.

  Erica suspected this was the real reason she’d called. “No, and I may not. She seems to be done with us. Three days of taking care of a sick woman and a child with autism would be a lot for most people.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Jack said she seemed perfectly fine with it all,” Becky said.

  “He saw her at the very beginning of day one.” Erica had thought a lot about this. What else could it be? “It’s not particularly unexpected.”

  “Maybe if you stopped expecting your life to be too much for people, it wouldn’t be.”

  Erica could tell the words came out of Becky’s mouth without her giving a thought to them. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just because Siena’s ASD was too much for Trent, doesn’t mean it will be for everyone. That’s all.” Becky’s tone had softened, as though she’d realized her statement might sting.

  Erica rolled onto her side and gazed out the window. “I’ve dated three people since Trent and I split up, and none of them stuck around once they witnessed a true-blue meltdown.”

  Becky scoffed. “Okay, but you didn’t really like the two you dated here. Kathleen notwithstanding, since you didn’t actually date her. You and she just—”

  “I liked them,” Erica said defensively, sidestepping the entire topic of Kathleen Duvall. “I wouldn’t have gone out with them if I hadn’t.”

  “But you didn’t like them the way you’d need to like someone in order to want them to stick around. You weren’t even all that upset when they broke things off, other than the meaning you assigned to it.” Becky was slightly breathless, obviously doing something else while they talked. She rarely sat still. “And I didn’t know the guy in Chicago, but from what you’ve said, he sounded like he was a transitional thing. And good sex.”

  Becky’s memory and bluntness irritated Erica sometimes, but she couldn’t deny anything Becky was saying.

  “You like this woman,” Becky said after a pause. “And she did keep coming around after she’d seen a meltdown and even paid attention to how to handle one. If you like her, which I know you do, don’t let her just slip away without trying to find out what might really be going on.”

  Erica sighed. “Maybe.” It was the best she could offer.

  “Okay, good. That’s better than nothing,” Becky said lightly. “So have you heard from Dickwad?” Another sharp turn in the conversation.

  Erica burst out laughing. Dickwad was Becky’s endearment for Trent—not to his face, of course. “He called a few days ago,” Erica said, thankful to be off the topic of Leslie. “He said he wants to come for another visit in a few weeks.”

  “So soon?” Becky’s surprise was evident. “That’s strange.”

  “Hmm.” Erica recalled his previous stay. “There was something bothering him last time he was here, like he wanted to talk about something but never did. He sounded a little like that on the phone, too. Maybe he’s coming back for that.”

  “What do you think it is?” Becky asked.

  “I have no idea. My aptitude for reading his mind vanished years ago.” Erica had never been all that in tune with Trent, but she’d never needed to be. Th
ey’d always had their separate lives in many ways. She envied Becky’s and Jack’s ability to finish each other’s sentences, to know exactly what the other was thinking—ski boats aside. Maybe she just romanticized it, but still, it would be nice.

  Becky gasped. “Maybe he wants you back.” The words came out as a croon.

  Erica rolled her eyes. “Please.” She sat up. “I’m hanging up now. I have to make dinner.”

  Becky giggled. “Hey, want to do lunch or a movie this weekend? Maybe Sunday?”

  “Let me see if there’s a sitter available that Siena likes,” Erica said. “I’ll get back to you.”

  Over fried chicken and mashed potatoes, Erica listened as Siena chattered for more than twenty minutes about the special game of ball she and Gus had made up in the backyard. She was always so happy playing with him. It was as though he was endowed with some kind of super power to brighten anyone’s mood.

  “What about school?” Erica asked, when Siena came to the end of her story. “How was your day there?”

  “It was okay,” Siena said, the light in her eyes dimming. She looked down at her plate. “I wish Kiley was still there.”

  Kiley was a little girl who’d been in Siena’s class the previous year and had been a good friend to Siena. She’d sat by her at lunch, played with her at recess, and helped her with class work if Siena needed it. For her contribution to the friendship, Siena had helped Kiley with math. She was a whiz with numbers. Kiley had even stood up for Siena against a boy that made fun of Siena, a student that Erica had difficulty not thinking of as a horrid little child. Erica had thought more than once that Kiley was a chivalrous butch in the making. She’d been almost as sad as Siena when they’d learned Kiley’s family was moving to Oregon over the summer. “I know, sweetie. I’m sorry.”

  “Tim Davis calls me weird,” Siena said. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

  Erica tightened her jaw. And speaking of the little devil. “Tim Davis is a bully.” She had trouble holding her temper when this subject came up, but it was more important to try to help Siena understand that people’s reactions to her were about them, not her. “He’s one of those people who can only feel good about himself by making someone else feel bad.”

  Siena frowned. “Is that why Leslie doesn’t come over anymore?” Her tone was more curious than anything else, as though she’d been pondering the question for a while. “Because I’m weird?”

  Erica was stunned. Of all the directions this conversation might have taken, she hadn’t seen this one coming. “What?”

  “She doesn’t want to play, or have dinner with us, or spend the night anymore. Is it because of me?”

  Erica was speechless.

  Siena stared at her food. “Because I’m not like her little boy? Because I’m weird?”

  Little boy? Erica struggled to find her voice. She had to clear her throat. “Leslie has a little boy?”

  “Uh-huh.” Siena didn’t look up. “His name is Elijah. He lives with his other mom.”

  A little boy. Why had Leslie lied about not having children? And where was he? Back in Florida? Erica remembered Leslie’s judgment of Trent the night she’d learned of Erica and Siena’s move to California. Had her reaction been out of guilt? Questions flooded her mind, but now wasn’t the time to ask anything more. This conversation was about Siena. “You’re not weird, sweetie. That was a mean thing for him to say. And Leslie certainly doesn’t think you’re weird.”

  “But I’m different than other kids.” Siena poked at her food, her head bowed slightly.

  “Yes, sweetie. You are different in some ways than other kids,” Erica said, not wanting to diminish Siena’s observation while also attempting to point out some additional truths. “But you’re also very much like a lot of other kids.”

  “How?” Siena asked, twirling her fork.

  “You like to color,” Erica said thoughtfully. “Don’t most of the kids in your class like to color?”

  Siena tilted her head. “Yes,” she said finally.

  “And don’t a lot of the kids at school like and talk about some of the same movies you like?” Erica watched Siena closely, seeing the small changes in her expression and posture as they spoke.

  Siena nodded.

  “And what about pizza day in the cafeteria? I’ll bet you’re not the only one who loves that.” Erica let a note of teasing into her voice and was rewarded with the tiniest quirk of the corners of Siena’s mouth.

  Siena lifted her gaze to Erica’s. “But what if Leslie’s little boy doesn’t like those things, so she thinks I’m weird, and that’s why she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore?”

  A spark of anger flickered to life in Erica’s chest. How dare Leslie do this—waltz into their life with her smile and her easy manner and her kindness and her dog and make Siena so happy, then vanish on her, leaving her thinking it was her fault. In reality, it was probably Erica’s. She was the one who’d gotten sick and asked too much of Leslie. She wouldn’t try to explain that to Siena, though. Siena needed something different. “Leslie certainly doesn’t think you’re weird. In fact, she told me what she does think of you.”

  “She did? What?” Siena asked eagerly.

  Erica smiled, keeping her anger to herself. “She told me she thinks you’re smart and amazing and enchanting.”

  Siena sat up taller, her eyes widening. “And that morning when you were throwing up and I got dressed all by myself…she said I was beautiful.”

  “Well, there you are.” Erica stroked Sienna’s hair. “It isn’t likely that someone who thinks you’re beautiful, smart, amazing, and enchanting is going to think you’re weird and not want to be your friend.”

  Siena cocked her head. “What’s enchanting?”

  “Why don’t you ask Leslie the next time you see her,” Erica said. And there will be a next time. She’d make sure of that. She wasn’t putting up with this. It was bad enough Siena had to deal with being teased and ostracized sometimes at school and that her own father wanted little or nothing to do with her, but now someone she’d actually been forming a connection with? No, this isn’t going to happen. If Leslie had a problem with Erica, fine. Erica wouldn’t need to be a part of it. And I certainly won’t ask anything of her for myself. But Siena wasn’t going to be hurt by all of this.

  They finished with dinner, then played a game of Aggravation, fitting for Erica’s mood. The more she thought about Leslie’s disappearing act and what it’d caused Siena to think, the angrier she got. By the time she closed the book after a bedtime story and adjusted the covers around Siena’s sleeping form, she was ready for battle. She glanced at Gus. “Are you coming?” she whispered.

  He buried his face in Siena’s pillow.

  “Smart boy.” She felt better leaving him with Siena anyway. She snatched the nursery monitor from the shelf by the door and switched it on as she stalked toward the stairs.

  She banged on Leslie’s back door—once, then again.

  Before she could raise her fist for a third, harder pounding, Leslie appeared in the arched doorway between the family and living rooms. She looked confused, then quickened her pace when she saw Erica. She yanked open the French doors. “What’s the matter? Is Siena okay?”

  “I want to talk to you,” Erica said, pushing past her.

  “All right,” Leslie said slowly. “But is Siena—”

  “Siena’s fine.” Erica whirled around to face her. “I mean, yes, she’s okay, but she’s…”

  Leslie closed the door, clearly waiting for Erica to finish.

  “She doesn’t understand why you stopped coming over or letting her come see you,” Erica said, trying to keep calm, but she kept hearing Siena’s question. Is that why Leslie doesn’t come over anymore, because I’m weird? “She’s sad, and she’s hurt.”

  Leslie sighed and ran her hands over her face.

  For the first time, Erica noticed her tousled hair and the dark circles under her eyes. Her white cargo shorts and tank wer
e rumpled. Had she been asleep? It was only eight fifteen. Erica wanted to ask if she was okay, but she couldn’t let herself get distracted. This was about Siena.

  Without a word, Leslie walked past her and into the kitchen.

  Erica followed. “Where have you been? I mean, I know you’ve been home because we see your car. And Gus comes over.”

  Leslie turned on the faucet at the sink and cupped her hands beneath the flow. She splashed water onto her face.

  “Look,” Erica said, wanting to get all the words out before she lost her momentum, “if I did something to make you mad or upset or if I took advantage when you offered to help when I was sick…Maybe being in our life the way you were those first couple of weeks was too much for you. If so, that’s fine. Things can be, and will be, different. I really never get sick, and if I do again, I won’t ask—”

  “You think I stopped coming around because you needed some help?” Leslie’s tone was brittle. She turned off the water and grabbed a towel.

  Her sudden response startled Erica. “I don’t know. It could be.”

  Leslie scoffed as she dried her face. “You obviously don’t think much of me.”

  Erica hesitated. “Well, what happened then?” She searched her mind. “If there’s something about me being bi, or single, or hell, just being next door, you don’t have to have anything to do with me.” Her temper rose. “But I’ll be dammed if I’ll let you hurt Siena like this. You’re the one that started it all with that dry spot and your adorable little dog and your blue couch. You won Siena’s heart with your wishes on stars and your Winnie the Pooh voice. You can damn well step up now and follow through on the friendship you started, at least with Siena.”

  Leslie planted her hands on the edge of the counter and stared out the window, shaking her head.

  “Whatever it is,” Erica went on, “please, don’t bail on Siena. She formed an attachment with you, a connection. Do you know how rare—?” Her voice broke. “No, of course you don’t. But she hardly ever does that with anyone.”